Just before entering Aspen town proper, Highway 82 crosses Castle Creek on a rickety old bridge. For decades, Aspenites have fought over the “Entrance to Aspen”. On the south side of the road, land has been preserved as the Marolt Open Space, former ranch land converted to conservation corridor. Beneath the bridge, 100 feet or more below, lies the Creek, bordered by the local power plant and a twisty, steep road which the bridge was meant to bypass. Between the two, 82 makes an S curve to the right, then left in a block, to link up with Main Street. This entire complex makes for an agonizing bottleneck both in and out of town. A roundabout, dedicated bus lanes, bike paths (really: three of them) have all failed to reduce the wait time in and out of town.
But upstream from this mess lies the Castle Creek Road, 13 miles into the heart of the wilderness. Up there lie the ghost town of Ashcroft, gravel tracks to Crested Butte, the spine of Aspen Mountain, and the Montezuma mines. Along the way, hiking trails into Conundrum Hot springs, American, and Cathedral Lakes. The valley is lined with aspen trees and a raging watercourse, surrounded by raw granite peaks. At the base of the road, the local hospital, and the Music School have taken up residence. And squeezed amongst all these are plots of land, suitable for local millionaires and billionaires to buy or build.
Crammed to together like that in paradise, the Millionaire vs Billionaire wars are always on full boil. Annually, it seems, open conflict breaks out. Bloodless, true, but scary nonetheless to all concerned.
An ongoing battle is over hydro power. The millionaires support green projects, anything to reduce our carbon footprint. So they latched on to a dream of re-building a hydro electric plant underneath the bridge, taking advantage of the power inherent in a 9 mile, 2000’ drop in the water course. This is not a new idea. Aspen was the first city west of the Mississippi to have hydroelectric powered street lights. By the early 1890s, much of this electricity was coming from a power plant near the confluence of Castle Creek and the Roaring Fork river.
Over the last few years, the town of Aspen has proposed to re-animate that power plant. Voters first approved of this, then, a few years ago, voted it down. Driven by the persistence of the richer Greens, the project has nonetheless remained alive. But late last month, the city did not seek to renew its three year permit to build at the Castle Creek site. Could it be the anger of several billionaire Castle Creek residents, who did not want their view of a pristine mountain stream to be marred by intake pipes or modern water wheels? They had threatened suit, had publicly noted suspect objections to the project, and probably applied vigorous behind the scenes pressure to local politicians. The city attorney and council gave a very ambiguous statement, stating they are not pursuing this project, but reserve the right to pursue other micro-hydro efforts in the local watershed.
So who are these Castle Creek billionaires who can exert such mysterious influence? Well, one might be William Koch, who owns 55 acres at the top of Castle Creek Road. This covers not only the beaver dams and adjoining swampland, but also the newly renovated Elk Mountain Lodge. Originally a dude ranch (my father and I stayed there in 1962), Koch bought the property for $26.4 million in 2007 and converted the lodge, which had been used for weddings and parties, into a 32,614 square foot vacation home.
A few years back, he approached the county requesting barriers be placed along the side of the road, all nine miles of it up to his place, He even offered to pay for it all himself. But what he didn’t reckon was the obstinance of the millionaires who use the road on a regular basis for recreation. Much of the route sits either directly next to the creek, or high on a ridge looking down into it’s gully. Lining the road with steel barriers would simply ruin the raw look and feel of the drive (and bike ride). Koch claimed his concern was with his grandchildren. He mused, what might happen if they were driving home one evening, after having a little to drink, and missed a turn. Nothing would be there to protect them from heading straight into mortal danger.
In the end, Mr. Koch lost this battle. The county ended up putting in a few short sections of barrier in some of the most egregious sections, but they remain well-hidden and don’t mar the view at all. A few months back, Koch put his property up for sale. Asking price: $89,000,000. Maybe he didn’’t lose after all?
(To Be Cont’d)